ndred yards away, according to the
_Dewey's_ range-finder, and apparently yet unconscious of the proximity
of the American submarine. In a moment the gun was loaded and ready
for firing.

"Bang!" she spoke, and then every eye followed the shot. Commander
McClure had jumped up on the conning tower and was hugging the periscope
pole. There was a moment's silence before he spoke.

"A little short, boys," he called. "Elevate just a little more---you've
nearly got the range."

Again the gun crew leaped into action.

"Hurry, boys! he sees us now and is beginning to submerge!" yelled the
young lieutenant as he followed the U-boat through his glasses.

Again "Roosey" spoke, and this time with an emphatic "crack" that boded
ill for any luckless human who might get within the line of its
screaming shell fire.

"O-o-o-oh, great!" cried Lieutenant McClure an instant later as he
peered more intently through his glasses.

Of a sudden the periscope disappeared from the crest of the sea as
though wiped out completely by the explosion of the _Dewey's_ shell.

"No doubt of it, boys; you ripped off that periscope," announced
McClure, with an air of finality.

At their commander's words the gun crew burst into cheers. The
submersible's wireless was singing out a message of good cheer to
the American fleet. It was only too evident that the enemy U-boat had
been crippled and put completely to rout by the daring maneuvers and
deadly gunfire of the _Dewey_.

"Who said the Yanks couldn't stop their pesky undersea wasps?" chattered
Bill Witt joyously. "If they just let us loose long enough we'll show
'em how to kill poison with poison."

Mike Mowrey was in great glee.

"Just like a grasshopper begging for mercy on a bass hook," he said
jauntily, imitating with a crook of his finger the disappearing
periscope.

Soon the fleet was off Cape Clear on the southernmost point of the
Irish coast and very shortly headed well into the English Channel.
Now every few hours the American warships were speaking one or other
of the English and French patrol ships. Great was the joy of the
boys aboard the _Dewey_ when first they beheld an American destroyer
out on the firing line.

"Union Jack and French tricolor look pretty good; but none of them
makes a fellow's blood tingle like the Stars and Stripes; eh, chum?"
queried Jack, as he surveyed an American destroyer dashing along in
fine fettle. And Ted heartily agreed.

Off Falmouth